


fitzpleasure

by crankgameplays



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Hair Pulling, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Neck Kissing, Ugh, i'm really proud of it, it also turned out fluffier than I thought it was gonna be, jack is a homesick little babe, jack speaks a lot of Irish, mark has a hair pulling kink, there's no actual sex, this turned out way dirtier than I expected it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8774296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankgameplays/pseuds/crankgameplays
Summary: jack accidentally pulls marks hair. things get a little out of hand.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [At_the_moment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/At_the_moment/gifts).



> once again a prompt from the oh so lovely @at_the_moment YE italicized sentence is a translation of the Irish, no one actually speaks of says it. also I'm on mobile and it was SO HARD TO DO FRIGGING ITALICS title comes from an alt-j song by the same name! hope you enjoy!! also bonus points to anyone who can guess what show they're watching!!! it's my favorite :)

jack and mark had been friends for a long times. so long, in fact, that mark has convinced jack to leave his little home in ireland to join mark in california. jack was reluctant, of course, but living with mark and meeting fans almost every single day outweighed the cons of his leaving his rainy homeland. he got homesick a lot, of course. sometimes when it would go weeks without rain, and jacks skin would turn pink from the overwhelming sun, he'd slowly slip back into his native tongue and speak to mark as though the american would understand what he was saying. he couldn't, of course, but it made jack feel comfortable so he let him do it. he would sing songs from his homelands while dancing around the house, tidying up mark's messes. sometimes they would lie on the couch, marks head in jacks lap as they watched tv. jack would whisper nonsensical words under his breath, reactions to what the characters would do on screen. tonight was one of those nights. they were watching some dumb drama that jack was absolutely invested in. every sunday jack would shove mark out into the living room, drop the boys head on to his lap, and mutter Irish under his breath as the characters would do something he didn't like. mark had no clue what on earth was happening, since most of the time he would just sleep through the episodes until sean woke him up, ranting a mile a minute about who had done what and why it was so fucked up. mark would nod along quietly, smiling at the sight of jack so passionate about something. tonight was different though. he had already taken a nap earlier after he had filmed a few videos, so he was wide awake as he watched the show with jack.

"who's that?" he asks for what felt like the millionth time.

"ian," jack answers patiently, running his fingers gently through marks hair.

"and why is he freaking out?" the character on screen was currently throwing a fit, saying that he was well enough to continue work and that he had taken his medicine.

"he has bipolar disorder, and his medicine stopped working," jack pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth before groaning. "Ian téigh abhaile!" he exclaims, slipping into his native tongue as his hand tightens at the roots of marks hair. mark hisses, fingers curling into fists as white hot pleasure shoots through his body. it hurts, but in a good way. his entire body turns hot with embarrassment as jack let's go of his tight grip on his hair. he tries to cool his body down, tries not to let dirty thoughts enter his mind. images of jack gripping at the roots of his hair, tugging his head back and biting at the sensitive spots on his neck flash through his mind. if it wasn't for jack speaking, he probably would have been lost in the deep abyss of dark thoughts.

"gabh mo leithscéal, mo ghrá," he says quietly, rubbing his fingers soothingly against the sore spot on marks head.

"what?" mark asks. he normally never asks for a translation on jacks speech, but jack also rarely ever directs it to him. he loves the way the words fall off his tongue, loves the way they strengthen jacks accent, especially when he yells it in anger. but thoughts of jack shoving him on to his bed, whispering dirty words that he can't understand, are filling marks mind and he needs distractions and he needs them now. he had known for a long time that he had adored jack, had thought he was one of the most beautiful people he had ever laid his eyes on, and had even developed a crush on him ever since jack moved in almost a year ago. he had never ever acted on it, even if sometimes he thought jack reciprocated it. he just couldn't risk ruining their friendship.

"huh?" jack tears his eyes from the tv as a commercial comes on. "oh, I was yelling at the tv. telling ian to go home," he's blushing, though, so mark knows there's more than that.

"what about after? when you pulled my hair?" he smirks as the blush on jacks face grows, spreading down to his neck and making it look like he was sunburned. jack, apparently, doesn't want to answer this question. he flounders around for a distraction before smirking, copying marks facial expression.

"oh? you mean like this?" he giggles, and before mark realizes what's happening, jacks fingers have tightened in his hair, yanking his head back as far as it will go. mark gasps loudly, eyes shutting as his back arches into the pull. him and jack hurt each other playfully all the time, shoving each other around and play fighting with fists. this was no different, except it was, cause marks pants were getting tighter. mark splutters and shoves away from jack, yanking his head out of his hands and falling off the couch. he ignores the pleasurable throbbing in the back of his head where jack had pulled his hair. he knew from experience the pain would fade in a few minutes, but the throbbing would continue for at least thirty minutes.

"the fuck, mark?" jack asks in surprise, hands up in surrender. marks dirty thoughts return full force and he shakes his head quickly.

"i don't..." he flounders for an excuse. "i have a headache. im just gonna go lie down," he bolts for his room before jack can even respond. he doesn't hear him chasing after him, so he assumes he's in the clear. his own thoughts consume him, images of jack pinning him to the bed, previous words jack had spoken in his native tongue floating through his head. he pulls his pillow over his face and groans into it, willing the thoughts to disappear from his thoughts. it was going to be a long night.

*  
avoiding someone you live with is surprisingly easy, mark discovers. he probably has to thank his work for that, as both the boys stay cooped up in their 'offices' all day, recording and editing videos. while mark is taking a break to edit videos, he leaves his door open so chica walk in and out as she so pleases. he closes it while recording, but all the jumping around and yelling makes it hot, so he likes leaving the door open for a soft breeze. and his dog, of course. he can hear jacks yelling sound throughout the house as he plays some horror game.

"oh my nipples are so twi- fuck mo thóin do soith mór!" he cuts off with a scream of irish and mark can't decide whether to be turned on or to snort at the pitch of the scream. it's a few seconds of quiet before jack speaks up again. "for those of you who don't speak irish- fuck me!- that roughly translates to fuck my ass you big bitch! which is currently the emotion i am feeling right now. is that an emotion? i don't think so," jacks laugh rings through the house and mark instantly feels his spirits lift. he listens to jack play the rest of his game, though he has no clue what he's playing. it's only when jack yells 'like a boss!' does he realize he just wasted about fifteen minutes of editing time. he shakes his head, gets up to shut his door, and edits his video in record time. jack is going to be the death of him one day, and that's a thought that doesn't leave his head for a while.

*  
mark knows that jacks knows he's avoiding him. he can see it in his low energy around the house, the way he's almost completely diverted back to his original language, the way that he almost never speaks to mark unless it's necessary. marks heart is literally breaking in his chest, to the point where sometimes it gets hard to breathe. seeing his normally happy roommate so lifeless and joyless makes their house seem dull and depressed. jack was the light of marks life and he had snuffed that light out in only a week. it's just, he still couldn't get images of jack out of his head. every time he hears him speak his body trembles a little, and every time jack looks at him he can feel his face grow hot with a blush. sure, he had a crush on him before, but that was before. that was manageable. he would have a thought every once in a while about kissing him, or maybe holding his hand or hugging him. but he would brush those thoughts away easily, banish them to the dark corners of his mind before he could dwell on them too hard. sometimes his stomach would tie itself in knots if jack would smile at him, a soft little smile that was a secret, meant only for mark. he never smiled that way at anyone else. mark would push those smiles to the forefront of him mind, keep them there for when he was having a bad day or just wanted to see that special smile. but now, now it was virtually impossible to go five minutes without thinking of jack. without thinking of them kissing, fucking, hugging, whispering sweet nothings to each other as the sun broke through marks window. he had tried with every ounce of his mental strength to push the thoughts away but he couldn't. he didn't wanna ruin the special bond that him and jack had but he didn't wanna completely ignore the boy either so he was just... avoiding him. even so, when sunday rolls around, he drags himself away from editing and plops himself down on the couch. he waits for jack to show up, looking only a little confused as he does. he sits down next to mark and he instantly lays his head down on jacks lap. the irishman stared down at him in surprise but looks back up as the show began to play. after a few minutes of this and still jack had not begun playing with his hair, mark took matters into his own hands. he grabs his hand and sets it on top of his mop of hair. jack hesitates slightly but soon he's running his fingers through messy hair, cursing under his breath in a foreign language. mark blocks it out, focusing only on the sounds of the tv as he slowly manages to fall asleep.

*  
he wakes to jack whispering softly into his ear. he's just whispering his name over and over, hot air blowing against his ear and sending chills down his spine. he jumps up, scrambling away from the couch. jack gets a dark look in his eyes and stands up, slowly making his way towards mark. mark tries to act casual, leaning against the wall as though his heart wasn't racing in his chest, trying to break out of his rib cage.

"why have you been avoiding me, mark?" jack asks carefully, as if he had been planning this little confrontation for ages. mark figures he probably had been.

"i don't uh, don't know what you mean, jackaboy," he tries to play it off cool, but he stutters over his words and he knows his non existent cover is blown. jacks eyes narrow and he leans forward, pressing one hand on the wall next to mark. he leans close, lips pressed up next to marks ear.

"an bhfuil sé mar is maith leat an mbealach is cloiseann sé, mo ghrá?" _is it because you like the way this sounds, my love?_ mark shivers, eyes sliding shut as jacks warm breath falls over his ear again. he tries to speak, but the moment he opens his mouth jack presses a soft kisses right underneath his ear and his vocal chords fail him. he inhales sharply, jacks comforting scent of pine and rain and just something that was just jack and didn't have a name to it. he smells so good, like the comfort of rain after a drought, or the smell of his moms home cooking after a bad day, and something soft flutters in his chest and mark is so over come with love that his knees go weak. he's instantly snapped back to the current situation as jack trails his fingers up marks arm to rest his hand on the back of his neck.

"or maybe it's because i did this," his voice is low and seductive as his fingers curl into the abnormally long hair at the back of his head. he had been putting off getting a hair cut, and he was really regretting that right now. he yanks marks head back so harshly that it slams against the wall behind him. pain explodes from his head and flows down to the tips of his fingers and even further down south, and he can't help the low moan this is forced out of his mouth. now is the worst time for his vocal chords to come back to him. jack jerks back slightly, looking surprised before smirking.

"oh, so you do like that," he tightens his grip on marks hair and yanks his head down further so marks neck is bared to him. he leans down quickly, grazing his teeth against marks sensitive skin. mark gasps loudly, tangling his fingers into jacks shirt and he can't decided if he's trying to pull him closer or push him away.

"sensitive, aren't we, mo ghrá?" the words fall off jacks tongue for what feels like the millionth time tonight and mark grasps on to the feelings of confusion to distract from the feelings of pleasure that he should not be feeling.

"what does that mean?" jack pulls back slightly, hand loosening in marks hair at the unexpected question. "mo ghra," he stutters his way through the word, absolutely butchering the pronunciation, but jack smiles that secret smile and mark has to lean back against the wall to stop his legs giving out underneath him.

"mo ghrá," the word is whispered from jacks mouth, breathed against marks neck like its a secret, and just like jacks smile, mark thinks it is. "means my love," he presses a soft kiss against marks neck. mark shivers under him, his entire body going hot with pleasure. not sexual pleasure, just the pleasure of being called that by jack, his body lighting up under jacks kiss.

"why, though?" his voice is soft, and the sexual tension in the air had all but disappeared. jacks hand is still tight in his hair, but it's more a comforting weight than a painful pleasure.

"because," jack seems to lose his confidence, his voice shaking slightly. "i love you, mark," mark had gathered that information from the instant jack had cornered him against the wall, but the words were still the nicest things that mark had ever heard.

"well, mo ghra," mark butchers the pronunciation once more, but jacks ever growing beautiful smile is worth every single ounce of embarrassment he felt. mark would embarrass himself every single day if it meant getting to see jack smile. "i love you too," he says it quietly, right into jacks ear, so he knows it's meant for him and him only. jack grabs his chin in nimble fingers and tilts his head towards him. they kiss, slow and passionate, just holding each other. that is until jack pulls at marks hair, and marks moans into his mouth.

once they're done, laying naked in marks bed, sweaty and blissful, jack speaks into the silence.

"is breá liom tú," mark doesn't have to ask what it means. he whispers back a simple 'i love you too,' and pulls his Irishman close.

 

**Author's Note:**

> the only sentence I didn't translate was the one after jack first pulls his air, and he said apologies my love
> 
> thank yous to @glassy for the translations!!!! ur amazing thank u so much


End file.
